Color
by illumipel
Summary: Red, yellow, purple, white. She loved them all but the blue was her favorite. Namiku oneshot


Because I'm a Namiku fluff fangirl. Set before KH2, critique welcome - just don't falme.

Enjoy!

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Blue was her favorite.

A bright blue, teasing and wild, with the slightest hint of green – one she could never get in her pictures despite her hardest efforts. This often led to shouts for not concentrating on Sora enough, but for DiZ, nothing she did seemed like enough.

'But it's alright; he just wants to fix everything.' She mused, running a finger down the pencils before her, taking in each one slowly.

Red. Fiery, passionate, vibrant, expressive. Red was for Axel. It was obvious with his wild hair that defied all laws of gravity, which was only appropriate for one who never cared for limitations. Red was bright and expressive. It brought attention immediately, turning heads no matter what - like the powerful Nobody who had set her loose from his own kinds grasp. Warm when he chose to be, but frightening and deadly. She liked red when it was with something else: it was too sporadic on its own and needed something to calm it.

Just like Axel.

She smiled at the pencil, fond memories of him passing through her mind. It was easy to conger images of Axel mocking Marluxia's rather… _feminine_ qualities when he was alone with her. He was probably the closest thing she could have called a friend back in the castle.

And now he was the enemy.

Pushing the pencil away in disdain, she found herself fingering another. Her yellow-orange.

Sora.

Joy, happiness, energy, **hope** – it was like Sora was standing in front of her right there. Despite his state of suspended animation the boy seemed to demand attention. She had read in one of DiZ's many books that yellow symbolized jealousy; so perhaps it was a sort of unconscious jealousy about not being able to have adventures. Either way, the keyblade master's warm enthusiasm and vibrant optimism shined through her pencil, almost reassuring her that everything would be fine.

She wanted to believe Sora so badly too.

Suddenly feeling out of place holding Sora's color, she found herself placing it next to the red before picking up the next pencil in the pile.

The white, Kairi's color

Kairi was that pencil. She was pure, peaceful, innocent, and good – everything the color white stood for. It was no wonder that Sora had fallen for her so easily; such purity was so rare. Then again, the girl was one of the seven princesses of heart. Kairi was perfection, and she was also death.

Fearful of the sharp reminder of her inevitable fate, the pencil was next to the yellow-orange with a resounding snap.

The next few pencils passed through her hands with calm memories formed from her own meddling of Sora's mind.

Her orange – Yuffie, energetic and rather hazardous, but nice none the less. The 'great' ninja had amused her to no end while searching through Sora's memories.

The grey – Leon. Reliant, intelligent, modest, mature and a tad boring, the grey suited him perfectly.

She smiled as the brown came into her fingers. Aerith. So simple and comforting, what she assumed to be the feelings of home. The pencil found its place next to the grey with ease before she began to finger her purple pencil.

DiZ was her purple. Noble, wise and mildly arrogant, the pencil brought a vision of an angered DiZ in front of his computer into her mind.

She suddenly found herself holding several pencils, the yellow, pink, black and her blender.

Visions of Marluxia and Larxene swam through her head as she stared at the pink and yellow - perfect replicas of their respective hair colors. The two were easily pushed aside as she stared down the black.

That evil, mysterious, remorseful and angry black.

The Organization.

Then there was herself. That silly little colorless blender, worn away to almost nothing. Never truly there to begin with, but existing none the less.

Preferring the lies she created over reality the blender, just like her white, was next to the rest with a resounding snap.

Looking at what she had left, she found only her blues and greens.

Perhaps today she'd capture it.

"Left first," she repeated to herself picking up the green, full of life and vigor.

Only the soft scratching of the pencil could be heard in her room as gentle strokes turned into a perfect circle on the paper. The green was too dark now though; it reeked of jealousy and envy. Placing the pencil back down where she found it, she took up the blue.

Calm, secure, and peaceful, the blue slowly helped was away the dark qualities of the green. Slowly however, the blue became cold, depressing, and sad.

She began to trade back and forth between the two, layer upon layer, desperately searching for her prize. So involved in her work she never noticed the creak of the door, nor the black figure that walked in until he was sitting across from her, patiently waiting for her to notice him.

A glace up from the paper. "Good morning, Riku."

A nod in response and a pause before, "What are you drawing?"

His voice was normal again, she noted, and said, "Your eyes."

She didn't need to look up to know said eyes had widened in surprise. Smiling to herself she refused to look up, feeling her face begin to flush under his gaze.

"… Naminé, my eyes are gold."

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she forced herself to look up at him and into the face that wasn't his.

"They're still blue to me."


End file.
